Unreal

Chp 3 Do i still want this?

ᯓ✦∘˙

I woke up to the world's driest pillow.

It took me a second to remember where I was—until I turned my head and nearly screamed.

Sirius Black was sitting right next to the bed.

On a chair.

Just watching me sleep like this was normal.

"Good morning," he said calmly, like he hadn't just given me a heart attack.

I blinked. "Holy—can you not sit silently in the shadows like a vampire?"

He ignored that.

"I realized yesterday... I never actually asked your name," he said, nodding toward the side table. "Your breakfast is there."

I sat up slowly, brushing dust off my arm and trying not to look like I was panicking inside. "Oh. Uh. Thanks."

He stood and moved the chair to the side of the dresser, giving me a subtle gesture to sit there. I followed, stretching my sore back like I'd just slept in a medieval dungeon.

Because, you know, I basically had.

"I'm Deniaeris Hart," I said as I sat down, glancing at him. "But you can call me Aeris"

He gave a quiet nod, then lowered himself onto the edge of the bed again, eyes still on me.

Not in a creepy way—just... thoughtful. Calculating.

The silence stretched while I picked up the fork and started eating. The food was warm. Comforting. Definitely Molly-coded.

"I'll tell you what we talked about after you've eaten," Sirius said suddenly, like he didn't want to overwhelm me mid-bite.

"Appreciate that," I mumbled with a mouthful of toast.

He let the quiet settle again.

His gaze shifted, landing on the red, gold-etched book still lying on the bed.

"You were reading that," he said, not a question.

I swallowed. "Yeah. I mean... there's no phone here. No TV. I almost died of boredom, so..."

His lips twitched. Barely. "It's not light reading."

"I wasn't doing it for fun," I said. "Mostly just to keep my brain from melting."

He didn't argue.

Just looked at me, like he wasn't sure what to make of me yet.

I finished eating, quietly setting the fork down.

Sirius stood, then reached for something folded neatly on the nearby dresser.

He held out a small stack of clothes—an off-white knitted sweater and grey sweatpants. Simple. Soft-looking. Definitely new.

Underneath the sweater was...

Oh.

Underwear.

My soul left my body for a second.

He cleared his throat. "I figured you might want something clean. Didn't seem right leaving you in... old clothes"

I nodded quickly, face burning. "Yeah. Thanks. Appreciate it. Totally normal."

I took the clothes from him, trying not to die.

He didn't comment. Just turned and said, "Come on. I'll show you the bathroom. You'll have to be quick no one's home now, but they'll return soon."